Thursday, December 01, 2005
At The Black Sheets (Pt.2)
We're exploring a large house where the Black Sheets crowd is holding a Saturday night sex party. My partner D wants to get to the room with the "action," so we wander off towards the staircase. Usually the hard-core action at these events takes place in the lower regions.
On the way I discover there is a neat fireman's pole, cast right down from the ceiling into the lower floor. It's a fun thing for those who want to get to the basement in a hurry instead of taking the stairs.
As I am dressed in my black leather fetish outfit, perhaps I feel emboldened to play Tarzan. I am nearly naked, and, well, it just feels right, mom. So I leap for the pole and nearly rip my shoulder off trying to neatly slide through the hole. D follows me down in, and suddenly we realize we're in the main "play" area.
It's got a different vibe to it, the lighting is much softer, with shades of red. You can almost smell that this is where the action is.
They have a small jail cell, a leather swing is suspended from the ceiling, there is a doctor's examining table, complete with IV hookups and a nearby sink and cabinets to add to the effect. And of course, a number of mattresses lying about. A large four-poster bed is in the adjacent room, and we head for that.
So far I have not seen any women here that I would want to hook up with. I had hoped to find this, especially at a Black Sheets party. But the large majority of the women seem hetero, and they are huge women. Not my style at all. So D and I figure we'll play with ourselves for starters.
We have discussed this ahead of time actually. I have written elsewhere about the need to kind of plan your night. When we first attended a party here, we did not do that. It proved a mistake. I was so distracted by all the goings-on that I couldn't focus enough to orgasm. No matter what D tried. A rather unusual situation for us personally, but not all that uncommon at a sex party, so I am told.
Some manuals actually exist that deal with how to be at a sex party, and they advise not setting too high a goal for yourself the first time. Don't expect that you are going to be "working the room" in exhaustive fashion. Set modest ambitions for yourself. I would agree with that.
D and I play on the four-poster, which for some reason is not occupied. Other parts of the room are, so one of the things a person needs to focus on is concentrating with a lot of activity/noise/music going on nearby. D goes down on me, and to the alternating strains of Arabic trance and an operatic aria, he gets me off. His plans include getting fucked later on by a guy, so he is happy to hold himself in reserve until that moment.
The Black Sheets is by far the party with the best music. Very appropriate to the night's play, with strains of techno, world beat, electronica, and yes, even shades of opera. The music absolutely sets a mood here tonight.
Several single guys hover around the four-poster, stroking themselves as they watch us. Are you prepared to be Eye Candy? That's another element one factors in at a sex party. And the single guys. Well, be warned this is one party where they let in the single guys, and there are a lot of them usually. I've heard gay women who have attended these parties complain about how the guys like to get close and watch girlie play (when it happens). So if you - as a female - can deal with guys who are nearly salivating at you, the piece of raw meat among the Dobermans, why come on down! A lot of women as you would imagine do not like that setting. Another reason why we have not seen much girl-on-girl play here. It draws an immediate crowd, you practically have to be an exhibitionist or a cockteaser extraordinaire to carry it off.
A fairly young-looking guy wanders our way, D thinks he is Israeli, judging by his name. He seems rather mellow, and very interested in joining us.
D smiles at him and says, "If you've got a condom, you can fuck her." The guy disappears somewhere and reappears a short time later, condom attached. It is still a trip for me to fuck new guys, I am really starting to enjoy this, because D really enjoys watching. In the end though, I think it brings you back to your partner, because you are always, consciously or not, making comparisons. It's practically unavoidable. And it feels like you're balancing two scenes, your regular sex life, and your new arrival here tonight. Almost like a two for one experience. Rather delectable. I'm enjoying how he feels different inside of me than D, I notice his rhythm and how he moves. For some reason a cooking analogy springs to mind. Tonight we've having sole meuniere, last night it was osso bucco. How do they taste alike, how are they different, etcetera etcetera. I enjoy this kind of shopping around.
On the floor to the left of us lies a mattress with a strong-looking white guy busying himself with a really nice-looking Asian woman, probably early 30s. They are spending so much time together that I imagine they must have arrived as a couple. Or else they got acquainted really fast. We find ourselves watching them, do we want to hook up with them, do they want to hook up with anyone? She is the fittest looking woman here, besides me.
But they seem quite engrossed in their own scene. The guy later on seems to glance around the room, attempting eye contact with other males? It looks that way, but further hook-ups do not take place.
Later, D and I migrate to the smallish jail cell. We like hanging out here, it's a little corner tucked away from the flow of traffic where we won't get stepped on. But we can still watch the action. D gets reamed good by a burly guy in leather who wanders by.
But this I wrote about already in a separate column. God knows, I hate to bore you all twice.
Suffice to say, the Black Sheets is just about our favorite party. It has a queer sensibility we enjoy, and between D and I, we manage to find just about all we want. Minus a few fitter women. But that may happen, someday over the rainbow.
- - - - - - -
On the way I discover there is a neat fireman's pole, cast right down from the ceiling into the lower floor. It's a fun thing for those who want to get to the basement in a hurry instead of taking the stairs.
As I am dressed in my black leather fetish outfit, perhaps I feel emboldened to play Tarzan. I am nearly naked, and, well, it just feels right, mom. So I leap for the pole and nearly rip my shoulder off trying to neatly slide through the hole. D follows me down in, and suddenly we realize we're in the main "play" area.
It's got a different vibe to it, the lighting is much softer, with shades of red. You can almost smell that this is where the action is.
They have a small jail cell, a leather swing is suspended from the ceiling, there is a doctor's examining table, complete with IV hookups and a nearby sink and cabinets to add to the effect. And of course, a number of mattresses lying about. A large four-poster bed is in the adjacent room, and we head for that.
So far I have not seen any women here that I would want to hook up with. I had hoped to find this, especially at a Black Sheets party. But the large majority of the women seem hetero, and they are huge women. Not my style at all. So D and I figure we'll play with ourselves for starters.
We have discussed this ahead of time actually. I have written elsewhere about the need to kind of plan your night. When we first attended a party here, we did not do that. It proved a mistake. I was so distracted by all the goings-on that I couldn't focus enough to orgasm. No matter what D tried. A rather unusual situation for us personally, but not all that uncommon at a sex party, so I am told.
Some manuals actually exist that deal with how to be at a sex party, and they advise not setting too high a goal for yourself the first time. Don't expect that you are going to be "working the room" in exhaustive fashion. Set modest ambitions for yourself. I would agree with that.
D and I play on the four-poster, which for some reason is not occupied. Other parts of the room are, so one of the things a person needs to focus on is concentrating with a lot of activity/noise/music going on nearby. D goes down on me, and to the alternating strains of Arabic trance and an operatic aria, he gets me off. His plans include getting fucked later on by a guy, so he is happy to hold himself in reserve until that moment.
The Black Sheets is by far the party with the best music. Very appropriate to the night's play, with strains of techno, world beat, electronica, and yes, even shades of opera. The music absolutely sets a mood here tonight.
Several single guys hover around the four-poster, stroking themselves as they watch us. Are you prepared to be Eye Candy? That's another element one factors in at a sex party. And the single guys. Well, be warned this is one party where they let in the single guys, and there are a lot of them usually. I've heard gay women who have attended these parties complain about how the guys like to get close and watch girlie play (when it happens). So if you - as a female - can deal with guys who are nearly salivating at you, the piece of raw meat among the Dobermans, why come on down! A lot of women as you would imagine do not like that setting. Another reason why we have not seen much girl-on-girl play here. It draws an immediate crowd, you practically have to be an exhibitionist or a cockteaser extraordinaire to carry it off.
A fairly young-looking guy wanders our way, D thinks he is Israeli, judging by his name. He seems rather mellow, and very interested in joining us.
D smiles at him and says, "If you've got a condom, you can fuck her." The guy disappears somewhere and reappears a short time later, condom attached. It is still a trip for me to fuck new guys, I am really starting to enjoy this, because D really enjoys watching. In the end though, I think it brings you back to your partner, because you are always, consciously or not, making comparisons. It's practically unavoidable. And it feels like you're balancing two scenes, your regular sex life, and your new arrival here tonight. Almost like a two for one experience. Rather delectable. I'm enjoying how he feels different inside of me than D, I notice his rhythm and how he moves. For some reason a cooking analogy springs to mind. Tonight we've having sole meuniere, last night it was osso bucco. How do they taste alike, how are they different, etcetera etcetera. I enjoy this kind of shopping around.
On the floor to the left of us lies a mattress with a strong-looking white guy busying himself with a really nice-looking Asian woman, probably early 30s. They are spending so much time together that I imagine they must have arrived as a couple. Or else they got acquainted really fast. We find ourselves watching them, do we want to hook up with them, do they want to hook up with anyone? She is the fittest looking woman here, besides me.
But they seem quite engrossed in their own scene. The guy later on seems to glance around the room, attempting eye contact with other males? It looks that way, but further hook-ups do not take place.
Later, D and I migrate to the smallish jail cell. We like hanging out here, it's a little corner tucked away from the flow of traffic where we won't get stepped on. But we can still watch the action. D gets reamed good by a burly guy in leather who wanders by.
But this I wrote about already in a separate column. God knows, I hate to bore you all twice.
Suffice to say, the Black Sheets is just about our favorite party. It has a queer sensibility we enjoy, and between D and I, we manage to find just about all we want. Minus a few fitter women. But that may happen, someday over the rainbow.
- - - - - - -
